


real is what you feel

by orphan_account



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Feelings Realization, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Hand Kink, Harrisco Are A Mess Individually And As A Couple, Harry's Self Worth Issues, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 21:20:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19237318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Cisco helped Harry finish. Harry returns the favor.





	real is what you feel

**Author's Note:**

> this is a pwp set in s4, before cisco knows harry is using dark matter in the thinking cap. it's not super angsty but bc of the timeline it's not exactly hearts and unicorns. mostly this is an exercise in writing about how much harry wants to suck on whatever cisco will let him suck on :/

It starts, like most things start between them, with bickering. Cisco doesn't remember exactly what they were bickering about. He doesn't remember much of anything, really, that exists beyond his pillow, drenched wet with his sweat and spit and frustrated, gnawing teeth. 

“You said you were gonna help me finish,” Cisco pants, trying to lift his hips, though he doesn't know why he bothers. Every attempt he's made to fuck Harry's stupid pink mouth, puffy with cruelty, has been met with Harry's palms sliding over his bones and holding him meanly in place. Harry's thumbs press into the v of his hips. Hold him still and thick as molasses. “You said you owed me, Harry.”

Cisco hates how high his voice has slid, but he can't help it. Harry has been playing him like an easy, malleable thing for what feels like hours. Days. Cisco doesn't know if he's more pissed off or turned on, but that's close to normal where Harry is concerned. 

Except this isn't normal. The most they've ever brushed is fingertips in the lab. Cisco isn't sure what sharp turn they took between Harry hastily pulling his touch away from Cisco's shoulder before anyone could see to Harry sucking his dick.

Maybe Harry's Thinking Cap gave him the idea to pay back Cisco's poor decision of helping Harry finish the stupid thing with the worst slash best blow job Cisco has ever received. Maybe Harry's been thinking about sucking Cisco into a squirming, cranky mess as some sort of weird punishment or reward for years. Maybe Cisco is hallucinating. 

He's broken from his frantic thoughts by the tip of Harry's tongue, tracing some invisible path to the end of what Cisco can take. 

“I do owe you. This is payback, Ramon.”

“For  _ helping  _ you?” Cisco's voice absolutely doesn't crack, absolutely doesn't break, even when Harry presses an open mouthed kiss to the base of Cisco's cock.

“You did help me. And I'm gonna help you, too.” Harry holds his gaze steady, infuriatingly steady, and laps the flat of his tongue over Cisco's licked hot skin. “But you made me ask for it. You made me beg.”

Then there are teeth in the softest flutter of Cisco's thigh. Sinking into flesh like Harry is trying to suck the juice from summer ripe fruit. Cisco tugs at the mop of curls he's already tugged half a dozen tangles in. 

When Harry wraps his fingers around Cisco's wrists, pressing them back to Cisco's sides, Cisco groans. 

“I don't remember that at all.”

Cisco remembers yelling, and frustration, and a block of ice sitting heavy in his stomach, weighing him heavy and cold. But Cisco is sure he would remember Harry begging. 

He's going to tell Harry that he can show him what begging really is - a threat - or maybe just actually show Harry what begging really is - a humiliating but now seemingly inevitable conclusion - but Harry releases the mouthful of skin he's been sucking with a pop that leaves Cisco dizzy. 

“You're always making me. Always telling me what to do and just expecting me to fall in line,” Harry whispers nonsensically. His voice is rougher than normal, scraping over Cisco the same way his cheek is scraping Cisco's skin. “You wanted me to make friends, I did. You want me to show myself compassion, I did. You wanted me to show you I couldn't make the cap without you, wanted me to beg you, I did.”

“That's revisionist history, man. You've never done anything I - ” 

Harry sucks his cock for the first time in minutes. Just the head, just with the barest of pressures, as if Harry is being careful not to shatter glass between his cheeks. Cisco's head thumps against the pillow. 

When Harry pulls away, Cisco claws at the sheets, gripping them until his knuckles pound and ache as desperate as his dick. 

“You've had me wrapped around your finger for years," Harry says.

Has he? Cisco doesn't think he has, can't recall Harry ever being wrapped around his anything, can't recall Harry ever doing anything Cisco's told him. Except, okay, maybe the friends and compassion things. And maybe some Jesse related things. And maybe Harry's eyes do always seek Cisco's when they're working or solving or saving, like Harry is asking for Cisco's agreement, approval. 

But it's not like Harry's been trailing after him, grabbing at his shoulders, shining spotlights on whatever he does to make sure Cisco sees and praises him. It's not like Harry wouldn't or couldn't have made the cap without Cisco. It's not like he needed Cisco's skill as much as Cisco's approval. 

It's not like Harry's tripping head over heels over heart for him. 

Cisco swallows. He peers through the sting of sweat clumping his lashes together. It's not like Harry - it's not like they -

“Harry,” he says, not sure what he's going to say. 

“I'm gonna finish you off the same way you did me.” Harry says it lightly, like a promise, but Cisco feels heat press into his every pore. “You just have to ask, Cisco. You just have to beg me.”

And Cisco never agreed to that, but it's not like they had an open, honest discussion about Cisco's feelings on begging to come before Harry kissed him to bed and started licking his cock. 

They probably should have talked. Should have thought, even. But Cisco's brain went pleasantly blank when Harry came to his apartment and pressed Cisco against the fridge and whispered in his ear before biting the shell. It didn't occur to him that they wouldn't be on the same page the way they've always been, even if the book was one they'd never opened before.

Cisco could say that. He could tell Harry no. Tell Harry to stop. Take a breath and figure out what the fuck is happening between and around and in them. 

Harry sucks wet little torments along Cisco's cock until he reaches Cisco's balls, but doesn't stop sucking, and fuck, Cisco doesn't want him to stop. Not now. Not ever. Cisco just wants to feel Harry's mouth and come. 

“Help me finish, Harry, come on. You promised.”

It's not what Harry wants to hear, because Harry doesn't go back to touching his dick. Just tongues and sucks and nudges his teeth between Cisco's thighs, making deep, satisfied sounds like this is just the best meal he's ever had. Harry is happy to keep teasing him. Is enjoying it, getting off on it. He's not going to stop because he wants to because he doesn't want to. 

Cisco thinks he might cry. 

Harry emphasizes his lack of mercy by shifting to kiss Cisco's calf. He brushes his mouth to Cisco's knee. Cisco twitches, almost hitting Harry's annoyingly high cheekbone, but Harry curls his hands around Cisco's thighs, holding him open. 

“Do you know what I'm gonna do once you ask?” Harry asks, still kissing up Cisco's shivers and groans. 

Cisco responds as much as he can, teased to the point of angry exhaustion as he's been. He bites at Harry's lips when Harry finally kisses his mouth again. Bites harder than he means, really, hearing Harry's pained little grunt, but Harry doesn't pull away from Cisco's sharp. He never has, not once, and oh fuck, Harry really does - Harry really is -

Harry buries his face in Cisco's neck when Cisco gasps away from the kiss. 

“Harry - ”

“I'm gonna make you come,” Harry breathes. “Then I'm gonna do it again. And again. And again. Until you can't anymore. Until you swear you don't have anything left. And then I'm gonna make you come again.”

Cisco grasps Harry's shoulders like he's going to fall right through the earth unless he anchors his nails into Harry's muscle. He pulls Harry to him, over him, arching into the soft scratches of Harry's clothes, and mouths at Harry's ear. 

“This is me asking,” Cisco gasps. Everything in him burns but it doesn't feel like surrender, really. Not anymore than anything else has felt like surrendering to Harry, and he's survived all he's given before. “This is me begging, Harry.”

It is what Harry wants to hear. Or maybe he's just as close to the fault line as Cisco is. Cisco feels Harry's hands tremble as they sweep down his arms, stomach, hips. One curls around his still wet, still needy cock. Cisco nearly screams into Harry's mouth. 

“Are you ready?” Harry grunts against him. “Tell me you're ready.”

“I'm - ”

Harry slips down his body so quickly Cisco's head spins. His fingers slide along Harry's sweat slick neck. It takes all of his effort not to scratch Harry raw when Harry finally - finally - sucks Cisco into his mouth. 

“Yes, fuck, Harry. Suck my dick, you fucking dick, Harry, I'm - I - ”

Harry doesn't hold him down now. Let's him thrash and buck and fuck up into Harry's terrible, amazing mouth. Instead Harry squeezes his thighs and ass then pets over the swollen flesh like Cisco is something precious. Cisco curls his own fingers around Harry's face, pressing at Harry's cheeks. 

He can't last long, wound loose and panting as Harry's wound him. It would be embarrassing, how quick he spills down Harry's throat, if he gave a fuck about anything other than coming right now. 

Cisco says Harry's name, over and over and over again. He says until his whimpers soften from fucked out to over. His skin is raw, his nerves are sizzling and sore, and Harry is still mouthing at his soft cock. 

Weakly, he presses his fingertips against Harry's sweaty hairline. “You guys don't have refractory periods on Earth 2?”

Harry glares through his lashes. He eases away, although he clearly doesn't want to. He does it because Cisco told him to. Something gentle and fiery flickers in Cisco's stomach, and maybe he should say it out loud. Surely Harry knows he has Cisco tied just as tightly as Cisco has him, but if he doesn't, Cisco should say it out loud. 

“How long?” Harry asks, kissing and sucking strawberry marks from Cisco's thighs until he reaches Cisco's mouth again. All speech sizzles in Cisco's throat. 

It takes Cisco pushing trembling fingers against Harry's chest, putting space between his lungs and rattled brain and Harry's overwhelming  _ Harry-ness _ , to comprehend the question. 

“How long - you weren't serious, earlier.”

Harry stares at him. 

Cisco's hand curls around Harry's bicep, solid enough to anchor him from the free flowing desperation that has him floating above the bed. 

“I don't think I can again.”

The admission does little to discourage Harry's hunger. He kisses Cisco as if Cisco's whispered words are the flimsy things they are. 

“Bet you can,” Harry mouths against his jawline. “Bet I can make you.”

As drained as Cisco feels, as breathless and in sweat drenched need of a moment to breathe as he feels, he can't deny the chills Harry's nails scrape over his belly. Harry's fingers tug at the thick curls between his hips, not enough to hurt, just enough to make Cisco's dick aware of all the possibilities of Harry's hands. 

Cisco lifts his rubber neck and angles, catching Harry's mouth. Harry kisses back with the same heat he's been burning Cisco with since he shouldered his way into Cisco's apartment, kisses back open and spit sloppy. Like he's just as raw and desperate and wrecked as Cisco. 

Maybe he is. 

Cisco slides his palms from Harry's arm to Harry's chest, brushing over Harry's nipples, dancing over Harry's ribs, curling into the narrow sharp of Harry's hips.

“Let me get you off first. Wanna make you feel good too, Harry.”

But when Cisco cups Harry through his jeans, hissing at how unfathomably hot and hard Harry is under his palm, Harry seizes his wrist again.  He makes a frustrated sound and yanks himself from Harry's grip.

“Not - yet.” Harry says it through a stone jaw, as if it hurts to push Cisco's touch away and not just into it. He looks - not unsure, exactly, but calmer than he has since he started sucking Cisco's soul through his dick. 

Hesitantly, Cisco brushes his palm over Harry's cheek. Harry closes his eyes. “I'm useless when you touch me, Cisco. I won't be able to - to make it up to you, the way I need to.”

Every muscle in Cisco's body tenses at Harry's admission. He can't imagine Harry useless. He can't imagine how that would even work, is sure it couldn't, but doesn't get a chance to pant it before Harry is kissing him again. 

“I need to,” Harry rasps. 

Cisco feels the truth of Harry's words, the depth of them. For whatever reason, Harry's dams have broken, and the gnawing that's been driving him to pursue Devoe has shifted to Cisco, to this bed, to proving whatever it is Harry needs to prove to himself. 

And wasn't that what got them in this mess in the first place? The Thinking Cap, the Thinker, the Council of Wells - Harry coming back to this Earth. All Cisco has tried to show him is that he doesn't need to prove anything to anyone else. 

But Harry is the only one who won't accept the proof of his worth. If Cisco really is the one he looks to for confirmation, really is the one he answers to and for - maybe Cisco should just give Harry what he needs. What he's always given Cisco. 

Cisco runs his thumb over Harry's bottom lip, only for Harry to flick his tongue over the pad. Harry's eyes are hooded and night dark as he nips then sucks at Cisco's thumb. 

With a pop, Harry releases Cisco's thumb, only to press a kiss to his palm. “Gonna get you hard again. Make you ask again.”

Harry kisses his hand again, and again. Over his fingers before sucking his index and middle with the same teasing thirst Harry sucked his cock. Cisco's touch sinks into Harry's tongue. He can feel his blood spring and sing between his thighs. He touches Harry where Harry lets him while Harry laves at his hand, getting him hot and hard all over again. 

Cisco's cock plumps and it feels good, like licking at a bruise. Harry watches him arch with narrowed eyes. 

Harry angles his hips away when Cisco tries to rub against them. “Ask me,” Harry says, but he's the one asking. “Beg me,” Harry begs. 

Nearly breathless, Cisco presses his fingers back into Harry's mouth. “Make me.”

Harry does.


End file.
